Chayton's Tempest

by Aliyah Burke

  “What do you hope to gain from doing this, James?” his

  mother asked all traces of loving mother gone and in its place

  was harpy-mom.

  “I will gain my family, the one I want not the one you’re

  trying to cultivate for me. Tempest is my future. She and

  Dakota. Now, answer my question. Why the hell would you do

  something like this to us? Why would you want me to be

  unhappy?”

  Nineteen

  “Dakota Falcon Burnell!” The screeched filled the house.

  “You’d better get out of your room and prove to me that this is

  nothing but a load of shit.” She shook her hand that contained

  a handwritten note.

  There was no response.

  “Dakota!” Tempest banged her fist on his bedroom door.

  Nothing.

  She took another look at the note she held crunched in

  her fingers. Maybe it would all be a hoax. Her son’s writing

  leapt off the paper.

  Mom,

  Please don’t be mad, but I’m going to South Dakota. I’ve got a

  flight so by the time you read this I’ll be there. Maverick said to tell

  you that he wants you to have faith and he loves you. I know what

  I’m doing. Besides, Dad will be there.

  Dakota

  Tempest dropped to her knees and sat in silence. Her

  heart was shattered; this was the first time Dakota had called

  James “Dad”. And it was for this.

  “I have to go back,” she whimpered. “I have to go back

  and face my past. I don’t care if Dakota has the entire damn

  United States Marines with him. I have to protect my son from

  the evil that lives in those hearts.”

  Pushing up from the floor, Tempest snarled, “Damn

  you, James, for bringing this shit into my life!”

  She called Mili and explained what was going on. As she

  shoved some things into a bag, she called the airline to grab the

  first flight.

  Hours later, Tempest was in a foul mood as she climbed

  into her car rental. Her stomach clenched with fear and nausea.

  Sweaty palms gripped the wheel as she drove off in the

  afternoon towards a town she’d hoped never to set foot in

  again.

  _

  Maverick paced the floor. His parents had tried to give

  him excuses. He was beyond furious; but for the moment,

  they’d settled into an uneasy silence.

  It was all for the good and future of the tribe. Talli was a

  good woman for him, they said. They claimed that while they

  were sure Sarah…Tempest…was a nice enough person; they

  believed he could do much better.

  Maverick wanted to beat them both for their bigoted

  ideas. Unable to keep silent, he blurted, “When the hell did you

  two become racists?”

  “We aren’t racists, James.” His mother insisted. “We just

  feel that she would be better off with one of her own kind.”

  “Her own kind? Jesus, Ina, are you saying we shouldn’t

  be together because of our races?”

  “They should just be with their own,” she spewed.

  “That is such shit. Is that what your problem always was

  with the Whitehalls? Skin color?”

  Dawn’s eyes shot daggers. “Well, perhaps if that kid’s

  mom had been nicer to me, I would have as well.” She held up

  a hand. “But I would still want you to marry one of…within

  the tribe.”

  “So my happiness doesn’t matter? Are you saying that?”

  “Of course not! But you could be happy with one of the

  People, like Talli. You are our son. Your duty is to your tribe.

  Your legacy.”

  Maverick struggled not to gag. His parents should be

  respected. But, they didn’t make it easy. Ingrained in his mind

  sat an image of a scared and young Tempest being berated by

  his parents.

  “I am a son, your only son. However, now, I’m also a

  father; and God willing, I’ll get to be a husband soon. I can’t

  listen to this. More lies, stupid reasons for not being with a

  woman I truly love. All for your own prejudices. You speak to

  me and you lie.”

  “We’ve lied?” His mom screeched. “It was her,” she spat

  with loathing. “That damn Sarah is who lied. We just protected

  you from her claws!”

  “No!” he shouted right back at her. “What claws? She

  was a child, damn you. She didn’t lie and like I told you before,

  I took her virginity. Dakota is mine.”

  “Little bastard probably looks nothing like you,”

  Rodney Lonetree sneered.

  Whirling towards his father, Maverick launched toward

  him, wholly intent on ripping him limb from limb. “Don’t you

  dare call my son a bastard!” the growled warning came as his

  hands threw the older man to the floor.

  “Stop it!” Dawn screamed as the men hit the floor.

  “James, get off him. You’ll hurt him. Stop!”

  Chairs overturned along with the couch as the men

  wrestled around. They rolled over an end table, trading blows.

  Dawn Lonetree opened the door to yell for help only to be

  drawn back into the room when another lamp crashed to the

  floor.

  Maverick knew he could put his father in a position that

  would end the fight. He didn’t. His anger demanded

  vengeance.

  His mother’s screams bounced off him, totally

  ineffective as he punched his father in the nose. Blood spurted

  and her yells got louder.

  He felt her tugging on his shirt but it didn’t stop him.

  Again and again, he punched his father and deflected the

  return blows. They stood and Maverick used a shoulder to

  shove his father into a wall.

  “Dad?”

  That single world stopped Maverick as if he’d hit a brick

  wall. Turning toward the location of the voice, he saw nothing

  but the uncertain look on his son’s face.

  “Dakota?” Unsure if he were imagining the sight before

  him, he blinked even as he walked forward, the fight forgotten

  for the moment.

  “I…I…I knocked but…” Dakota gestured to the mess of

  the house, “I guess you didn’t hear me.”

  Maverick ignored his mother who alternated between

  starring at Dakota and her husband. He strode toward his

  child, uncaring of the hole in his shirt, the swelling of one eye,

  or the blood on his face. “Is everything okay? Tempest? How’d

  you get here?” There was no car out in the driveway aside from

  his.

  “Everything’s fine. I decided to come up here. I followed

  you and grabbed a taxi from the airport. I’m sorry, but I

  thought I would capitalize on learning about my past while

  you were here.”

  Relief washed over Maverick. Everything was okay.

  Tempest was all right. Heedless of the fact he hadn’t ever

  hugged his son, Maverick pulled Dakota roughly into his

  embrace. His eyes closed as he clutched the material of his

  son’s shirt.

  “I love you, Dakota. I hope you know that.” It was the

  first time he’d been called Dad and it felt wonderful.

  “I do, Dad, I do.” The embrace was returne
d fully.

  They separated and Maverick ran a hand over his mouth

  as he stared at his son. “Your mother?” He witnessed hesitation

  in Dakota’s face. “Well?” he prompted.

  “I left her a note.”

  “Oh, boy,” Maverick muttered. I bet Tempest isn’t going to

  like that much at all. Dakota grinned sheepishly, hands shoved

  into his jean pockets. For a moment, he looked a lot younger

  than he was.

  “He looks…so much like my father,” Dawn commented,

  awe apparent in her voice.

  Maverick spun around, placing himself between Dakota

  and his parents. He didn’t stop Dakota from stepping around

  him but Maverick’s body was alert and ready to go to his son’s

  defense in a heartbeat.

  Keeping a wary eye on both of his parents, Maverick

  was amazed at the shock on their faces. They could no longer

  deny it; they knew the young man beside him was his son. The

  similarities were blatant.

  “My name is Dakota. I’m sorry for intruding into your

  home, but I needed to speak with my dad.”

  Dawn stepped closer. “His features are such a perfect

  blend. He could pass as pure Lakota.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not. My mother is black.” Dakota’s

  statement was issued with challenge in its tone.

  Maverick shot his parents a glare to warn them to keep

  their mouths shut. Both now knew that he was willing to fight

  to defend his son.

  “Say goodbye, Dakota. We’re leaving.”

  “Where are we going?” Black eyes met his.

  “I’m going to teach you about your history on this side.

  These two are your grandparents, Rodney and Dawn

  Lonetree.” Maverick ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s go.”

  Dakota looked as if he wanted to argue but instead he

  nodded. “Okay. Sir. Ma’am. Again, I’m sorry about my

  intrusion.” He bowed slightly and walked outside without

  another word.

  “Don’t leave,” Dawn said, reaching for Maverick. “He’s

  our grandchild. Give us a chance to know him.”

  Maverick understood how being faced with a child

  changed everything; it happened to him when he learned about

  Dakota being his. Slanting his glance from mother to father,

  Maverick was wary of the look in his father’s eyes.

  “We need to leave. Goodbye, Ina.” With military spin

  and Maverick was out the door and heading to the car in

  seconds. “Get in,” he told Dakota once he reached it.

  “Where are you taking me?” Dakota asked as he buckled

  his belt.

  “To meet some of the elders.” Maverick turned on the

  car. “You know your mom isn’t going to be pleased.”

  “She knew I wanted to learn about this side of my

  heritage. Besides, I’m old enough to go somewhere without her

  permission.”

  “Watch it,” Maverick warned. “That is no way to speak

  about her.”

  “I’m just saying I’m not a kid anymore.” Dakota

  defended himself.

  “You’ll always be her baby.” Maverick drove off to the

  first home they were going to visit.

  _

  Tempest sat in her vehicle. She’d stopped at a fast-food

  joint and was now attempting to eat some fries. It was difficult.

  Normally, French fries were a comfort food; but right now,

  they were making her even more nauseous.

  She hated all of it. They way the town looked, smelled,

  and, most of all, felt. Sipping her root beer, Tempest let her

  gaze travel over the area. It was larger, set to attract tourists;

  but for her, it was the worst place on earth.

  Tempest hadn’t been able to drive by her old home or

  Maverick’s. Baby steps, she told herself. Half-heartedly she ate a

  fry and watched children in the park.

  At one time, she’d played there. But her favorite place

  had been the spot by the lake where she’d met James on

  occasion. Her crush had quickly elevated into love for the

  handsome, young Native American. And for that reason, she’d

  never even considered saying “no” the night she’d conceived

  Dakota.

  “James,” she whispered to the interior of her car.

  Opening the door, Tempest got out and tossed her food

  in a nearby receptacle. Hands in pockets, she began walking up

  the street. She could do this!

  Polite smiles and greetings left her as she wandered in

  and out of the new tourist shops. Jewelry, clothing, and more

  were being sold.

  Feeling better, she headed out of a leather store and

  almost tripped. Across the street in the park stood Dakota and

  two others. One who gave birth to her and the other she used

  to call sister.

  Her feet propelled Tempest across the street. Fear and

  rage raced to the surface as she saw the older woman point at

  her son. Her pride and joy.

  The sneer that filled the women’s faces stuck a knife

  deep into her chest. Tempest began to run, desperate to get

  there. She had to wait for a few cars to pass by and her anxiety

  increased tenfold.

  “…Ugly like your whorin’ mom!” The hurtful words

  reached Tempest.

  “Hey, you!” Tempest shouted, a cry that grabbed the

  attention of everyone in the vicinity. She barreled her way

  across the rest of the distance to halt in front of her son. “Who

  the fuck do you think you are talking like that to my son?” Her

  body trembled as she tried not to hit the woman.

  “Sarah?” the younger woman questioned. “Is it really

  you?”

  Tempest ignored her. She kept her eyes on the woman

  she believed to be more of a threat. She was like a mother

  grizzly protecting her cub.

  “Mom?” Dakota asked from behind her.

  “Get away from here, Dak. Stay away from this bitch.”

  Tempest never took her eyes from Carol Whitehall, the mother

  who had given her away. The mother who had disowned her.

  “Why did you come back, Sarah?” Carol snarled, her

  gnarled fingers curling like talons.

  “I swore I wouldn’t but when my son decided to come

  here, I knew I had to.” Tempest reached behind her for Dak;

  she needed to touch him to reassure herself he was there. Once

  she felt him, her hands dropped to her sides.

  “Take him,” her birth mother scoffed. “We don’t want

  bastard children here, anyway.”

  SMACK!

  Tempest backhanded her before the statement faded

  from the air. “Fuck you, bitch! Talk about my son like that

  again, and I’ll beat the black off your fat ass!” Glaring at the

  other woman, Tempest spat, “That goes for you too.”

  “I see your manners haven’t improved any,” her sister,

  Anita, ground out. However, she took a step back.

  “You haven’t had the shit kicked out of you, so I’d go

  with I have manners.”

  Dakota touched her arm. “Mom, please.”

  A man walked up to the group. “Sarah?”

  Tempest looked at him. He was older, grayed, and

  stooped, but she knew him.

  Her fat
her.

  The man who was supposed to protect her as she grew

  up. This man didn’t do that, he failed miserably. He not only

  abandoned her, he signed off on her like she was bad meat.

  She felt nauseous. Tempest wanted to run away and

  hide. Stiffening her spine, she locked away her fear and

  uncertainty, holding onto pride and anger. She wouldn’t cower

  before these people.

  “Mitchell,” she said to the old man, sans emotion. “The

  name’s Tempest. Sarah died the day you sent me away.” She

  saw shame flare up in his watery eyes, but her heart was

  hardened.

  “How could you send your own daughter away?”

  Dakota demanded, stepping up beside his mother. “She was a

  child.”

  “She was a whore!” Carol bit out. “And you are nothing

  more than a bastard.” The tone was lone and vicious.

  “Bitch!” Tempest yelled and lunged forward. Her

  motion was halted as she was hauled sideways to hit against

  something solid. Something familiar. Maverick.

  _

  Maverick had left Dakota in the park while he went to

  grab some food for supper. They’d spent the afternoon in the

  homes of tribal elders. Dakota had been welcomed with hugs

  and smiles. He smiled as he recalled how many times they told

  Dakota that he looked like Maverick’s grandfather.

  Dakota had been filled with knowledge about

  ceremonies, rituals, and customs of the Lakota. He’d been told

  many stories as well, which Maverick was proud to watch him

  soak up eagerly.

  Maverick walked out of a diner with some food and was

  met with a scene he didn’t want to see ever again. Tempest

  enraged. She’d just backhanded her mother and stood before

  Dakota as if protecting him.

  What the hell happened in the time I grabbed the food?

  Dropping the food, Maverick ran towards her and their

  son. He was obviously on a mission and people scattered out of

  his way.

  He reached for Tempest as she lurched toward Carol

  Whitehall, her hands curled into claws. “No, Tempest,” he said,

  much calmer than he felt. “Don’t stoop to her level.” The feel of

  her body in his arms made other things leap into his mind. He

  shoved his lust for the woman he held into a corner of his

  brain.

  Hearing a snicker, Maverick shot a glare at Mrs.

  Whitehall. “You would be wise to shut it and leave.” Her

  expression told him in no uncertain terms how she felt about

  him. Mr. Whitehall stood there weaving with his cane, looking